


So, You Wanna Join a Gang?

by t_a_f_k_a_r



Series: Nevermore Be Afraid [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:57:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4976284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_a_f_k_a_r/pseuds/t_a_f_k_a_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, and seriously, if any of them are ever asked, they’re blaming Gavin. Somehow, they’ve managed to get themselves trapped in what they’ve come to call the ‘Edgar Hole’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, You Wanna Join a Gang?

**Author's Note:**

> There seems to be a theme emerging here. Whenever they're stuck somewhere without power, Gavin gets them talking about their past. Oop.

None of them have ever really talked about what led them to Los Santos, about what led them to the Fake AH Crew. They know they’ve all got stories, that they’ve all got baggage. They can’t even imagine the weight upon Ryan’s shoulders. They’ve all got their little quirks, their little ways of coping with their immortality.

After a heist back in the early days, when it was just him and Jack, Geoff brought an entire apartment complex, and kicked most of the tenants out. Geoff moved into the Penthouse, but he made it the base of operations for the Crew and, as a natural progression, the crew moved into apartments on the lower levels of the building, though they do all have rooms within the Penthouse itself.

What I’m trying to say here is that, Geoff likes throwing away money, Gavin does, too. Sometimes they’ll grab one of their cars and go on ridiculous shopping sprees all around Los Santos, with the goal to spend as much money as they possibly can. There’s an entire apartment within their building that has been turned into a massive walk in wardrobe for all the shit they’ve brought. Jack gets on their case sometimes when they stupidly spend money from a heist during their cool down period. It’s only ever come back to bite them on the ass a handful of times. Sometimes the douchebags will get it into their heads to go on solo heists, they never really end well.

Jack likes going out onto the water, or simply going up into the air. She hasn’t handed in her sea legs for a pair of wings, but it’s a close thing at this stage. In saying that, she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to truly turn her back on the water. Some things you just don’t lose no matter how many lives you live, and her sea calling appears to be one of them.

Before Lindsay came along, Michael would grab his explosives and go on a killing spree through the city. You wouldn’t think the loud explosions, the screaming, or the sound of wailing sirens and gunfire would soothe him, but it does. And he’s never really understood why. Now, he and Lindsay get in one of their cars and they go on midnight heists, just the two of them. Sometimes they each grab a car and they race through the city streets until the godawful hours of the morning, when they’ll buckle down in one of the Crew safe houses and not return till midday.

Ray will assign himself achievements to get, or games to perfect, and he won’t allow himself to do anything else until he’s achieved his goals. He once stayed up for three days trying to get the Marathon achievement in Trials, until Ryan had to physically carry Ray to bed at four in the morning and tuck him in. Ray’s very weak and half-hearted protests didn’t help him any. He woke up at three that afternoon and spent the next six hours trying for that achievement again, this time he got it.

Ryan, strangely, goes on murder breaks. It’s not that hard for him, he _did_ used to be a soldier after all. And soldiers weren’t _always_ killing people. A problem for Ryan that interferes with his murder breaks is that, evidently, the older you become, the less you sleep. Not the less you _need_ to sleep, but the less you can physically sleep. Ryan’s insomnia hadn’t started to appear until the 1400s, and it had never gone away. He deals with it like he deals with most of his past. He ignores it and takes it in stride, until it has been six days, and Ray is tackling him into the nearest available bed and star fishing all over him to keep him from leaving. I never said any of them had _healthy_ ways of dealing with their issues.

* * *

Somehow, and seriously, if any of them are ever asked, they’re blaming Gavin. Somehow, they’ve managed to get themselves trapped in what they’ve come to call the ‘Edgar Hole’. The freezer in the basement of their Apartment complex, where Ryan occasionally tortures people for the fun of it, or for information. And somehow they’ve all managed to get themselves locked in there, thankfully, it doesn’t appear to be on right now, unfortunately that means there’s no lights on, so they’re sitting in the light of their gun-lights.

“I’m bored.”

“Don’t start that shit up again, dude.” Geoff whines at Ray, who sighs.

“But I’m just so bored.”

“Ray.”

“Fine.”

“I know!” Gavin exclaims. “Let’s chat.”

“About what, dipshit?”

“How’d we all end up in the Crew?”

“For serious?!”

“Yeah, c’mon!” Gavin pushes, sitting up, accidentally kicking Ryan as he moves.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Rye-bread.” Gavin apologises, folding his legs. “I came to Los Santos because Daniel was going away. Bastard decided to join the Army again.”

“ _Again?”_ Michael exclaims. “Dude, I fucking got as far away from the military as I could get when I died!” Gavin huffs.

“Yeah, Dan keeps bloody joining the armed forces. He was a knight during George First’s reign. He was a solider during the American Revolution. A naval officer during World War 1. A pilot in World War 2. And now he’s a bloody lance corporal.”

“Someone went the honourable route.”

“Maybe.” Gavin shrugs. “Anyway, Dan was going on tour, and so it was time for me to go forth and find things to keep me preoccupied in his absence. I got on the first plane to America I could buy my way onto at last minute, and found myself here. Only, I didn’t even get to leave the airport before alarms were going off and people were screaming.”

“Heh.”

“Geoffrey had bloody tried to steal a goddamn plane.”

“I fucking remember that.” Geoff announces, smiling widely.

“It seemed like a really, really fun thing at the time. So, I stole a gun from a dead security guard, snuck onto the plane, kicked Geoff out the pilot’s seat, and taxied down the runway. We were home free by the time Geoff recovered himself and had a gun against my head. Told him if he blew my brains out, I’d find him and end him when I woke up. _And he shot me anyway._ Bastard landed the plane and sat around to see if I came back, and when I did the first thing I heard was ‘hey, asshole. Want to join a fucking gang?!’”

“Geoff really knows how to sell it.” Michael snorts, Geoff scowling.

“Look, what else was I going to say?”

“You didn’t even _ask_ me!” Ryan grumbles, Geoff giggles.

“True.”

“What?” Michael exclaims, Ryan starts laughing.

“Okay, so, I was just drifting around, like I always do. Hadn’t been back in America since the settlers first came here, right? And I find myself in good ol’ Los Santos. I’m at a convenience store, buying diet coke when some asshole comes breezing through the door and starts yelling that this is a hold up.” Ryan says, shooting a glare Geoff’s way. “I just wanted some fucking diet coke, man. Why do you hate happiness?”

“Hey! I did you a favour!”

“Mhm.” Ryan shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “So, anyway. He yells at the cashier to give him the money from the till, and when the cashier doesn’t go fast enough, Geoff shoots me in the fucking head. That’s what I get for wanting some diet coke at 8:30 in the evening, right? I don’t know how long I’m out, but when I wake up, I’m on a metal slab in the morgue. To my surprise, beside me is Geoff. Who is just lying there staring up at the ceiling, naked as the day he was born.”

“You don’t know. I could have been born with clothes on.” Geoff grumbles.

“Why are you even arguing that, dude?” Ray exclaims, Geoff shrugs. “Idiot.”

“Anyway. Geoff must have heard me move, because he looks over at me and he asks ‘do you ever wonder why we’re here?’ and the next thing I fucking know, someone’s put a bullet in my brain again, and I’m waking up in the back of some shitty car and being welcomed into the Fake AH Crew.”

“That was me, sorry.” Jack admits, looking sheepish. “I was busting Geoff out, and after I’d already shot you, he admitted you were like us. And so we decided we had to take you with us. Sorry.”

“I fucking hate you.” Ryan grumbles, shaking his head.

“Where was I?” Gavin exclaims, eyes wide.

“You weren’t part of the crew then, Gavers.” Geoff answers. 

“Oh. I thought there was only the three of us when I joined?”

“Yeah, Ryan was being a fucking baby!”

“I was not!”

“You were fucking so!”

“Geoff, what’s with you and going on solo heists?” Ray asks, laughing.

“Look. I fucking get bored sometimes, okay?” Geoff retorts, pouting.

“Gavin dragged me into this bullshit.” Michael admits, when Geoff and Ryan go back to arguing over whether or not Ryan had been a baby when forcibly brought into the Crew. They fall silent and turn to him. “Honestly, I was just passing through on my way to nowhere, really, and then some stupid British asshole fucking dives into the back of my car and yells ‘drive!’ at me. And suddenly my car is being fucking shot at! I get super angry and drive us away from the cops, right? And the moment we’re in the clear, I turn to this little shit and I go to pull my gun on him, but he’s faster. He shoots me multiple times in the chest, and before he can dive out the car I yell at him that I’ll fucking find him when I wake up. He freezes, right? And the last thing I remember before dying is that asshole sighing and getting comfortable in the back seat and saying ‘I’ll wait.’ And when I woke up, he told me his name was Gavin, and then asked if I wanted to be in a gang. Of course I said yes. I had nothing else to do, and it wasn’t every day you found someone who didn’t scream when you came back from the dead, right?”

“You fucking told me you found him on your grocery run!” Geoff exclaims, turning on Gavin.

“I did!” Gavin replies, grinning.

“You fucking loser!” Michael exclaims, laughing.

“Michael’s the bastard who brought me in!” Ray yells, before they can start arguing again. “We’d been buddies on X-box live for a little while. He told me he was hanging out in Los Santos if I wanted to meet him and finally trade our fucking Pokémon! So I got on a plane here. And almost the moment I stepped off the plane, I was swept up in a gunfight. Apparently some Mercenaries followed Michael to the fucking airport. He practically yanked me into a car the moment he saw me, and we sped off through the city. I grabbed one of his guns from the backseat and just started firing. We got to a safe house and he turned to me and he says ‘so. You wanna join the Fake AH Crew? I mean, you did kind of just go through initiation.’ And I just fucking ran with it.”

“Jack and I kind of got drunk one night at the same bar. Ended up in a shootout with some fucking assholes, and woke up on a beach somewhere with bullet holes in our clothing and blood all over the place. We had a ‘you’re like me!!’ moment and then decided to go fuck everyone up.” Geoff says, shrugging his shoulders. “I brought this apartment building. And somewhere between that and running into Ryan, we formed the Fake AH Crew.”

“That sounds so lame when you tell it.” Jack says, sighing. Geoff scowls at her, and she simply smiles sweetly in response.

“What I’m taking away from all of this is that we all need to not go on solo missions, _anywhere._ ” Michael states, the others nodding in agreement.

“Probably accurate.” Ryan admits, a small frown on his face. “Then again, we practically stole Lindsay. Kerry showed up one day looking for me. I don’t even know how Kdin and Caleb got here. Jeremy and Matt crashed their damn helicopter on our roof and then wouldn’t fucking leave. We just attract the immortals, don’t we?”

“Fuck yeah, we do.”

“Let’s just hope one of our strays finds that we’re missing and comes to free us.”

“What day is it?” Geoff asks, glancing at the door.

“Er, Thursday.”

“Linday’s back from her play date with the ladies of the Podcast Crew at like six. Kdin won’t be back till tomorrow. Caleb’s running a few odd jobs, no clue when he’ll be back. Kerry’s currently tucked up in bed with a painful looking cold. And Matt and Jeremy won’t be back till about seven, or when they get sick of killing cops.” Geoff says, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ve got a bit of time to kill.”

“Please stop stalking out calendars.” Gavin exclaims, eyes wide.

“Dude, that’s fucking creepy.”

“I worry.” Geoff answers, shrugging his shoulders. The other’s rolling their eyes.

“Fucking Mother Hen over here.”

“Mama Duck would be more accurate, considering our logo.”

“True.”

“Well, fuck you guys. I’m getting in some shut eye!” Ray announces, gravitating over to Ryan and settlling himself between Ryan’s legs, head rested against his chest.

“Why me?” Ryan exclaims, pouting.

“Dude, you’re a fucking furnace on a good day. This shitty freezer isn’t on right now, but fuck, I’m still cold. “ Ryan sighs heavily and rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” Ryan mumbles, pout still on his face. It grows when Gavin shuffles over to lean against his shoulder, followed by Michael, and then Jack, who snuggles in between Ray and Michael. Geoff eventually squeezes in between Ray and Gavin and huffs a contented sigh at the warmth. “Guys, please.”

“Shh. Sleepy time.” Geoff tells him, closing his eyes.

“I hate you guys so much.” Ryan says, sighing heavily and scowling at the door of their cell. “Like, so much.” He grumbles quietly to himself. He smiles, though, when he’s certain he’s the only one still awake. “Sleep well, guys.” He murmurs, before closing his eyes and willing sleep to claim him.

* * *

When the freezer door opens hours later, none of them realize. Nor do they notice the giggling coming from the doorway, or the snap of photos being taken. The hushed conversation goes unnoticed, as well.

“This is so going on Twitter.”

“I thought we agreed to stop using that.”

“Meh. I gotta send this to Lindsay at least.”

“Do it!”

“How’d these losers even get stuck down here?”

“Who goddamn knows, man.”

“Let’s go show Kerry!”

“Perfect!”


End file.
